Rainbow Rush (Cape High Series Book 19)

by R. J. Ross

  “Well, that’s part of it,” I admit, looking at him shyly. He motions to the vegetables and I look down, seeing I’ve hit my knuckles with the edge of the blade. “Oh, whoops, sorry. I don’t want to break your knife. But anyway, if you know they’re having so many problems, why haven’t you split them up yet? They’re just getting more and more hurt! Partners are a very important thing, right? They need to trust and like each other! But they don’t—”

  “But they do,” Voltdrain says. “Oh, they do not see eye to eye, but if Ruckus did not trust Dolly, she would never go into the dollhouse.”

  I go still before looking at him in surprise. “But that’s part of the job, right?”

  He goes silent for a moment, working for a few seconds before saying, “The dollhouse, it is a form of a subspace, much like Rocco’s Shadowlands, and Cheval’s Mirrorlands. But instead of being there at all times… much like a… second layer to this reality, the dollhouse exists only for a short amount of time, and you are trapped inside.”

  I blink, my jaw dropping open. I’ve never even thought about it like that before. “Can… can anyone get out of it?”

  “Skye can,” he says, “the others, no. Perhaps if they work together, yes, but singularly, no, not unless they can distract Dolly. When she grows stronger, it will be even more difficult.”

  “And the others realize it?” I ask. I hadn’t.

  “Ruckus should,” he says. “She has rammed into the walls many times.”

  “But… it isn’t like Dolly seems the type to do something… mean to anyone in the dollhouse,” I say. “I mean, we play in there. Of course, Doris got eaten by an ice cream monster, but that was more funny than dangerous. And I saw the fight with the Superior doll and the pony, and nobody was hurt, there, either.”

  He lets out a laugh. “Dolly is an elf,” he says, shooting me a grin. “She is an elf from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head. She would never dream of actually hurting someone.”

  “So it’s no wonder that Ruckus trusts her, right?” I say. “I never felt like I was in danger, and the Darlin’s seem to absolutely love doing it. Shouldn’t they trust her even less than Ruckus, though?”

  “Do they need to, with Skye?” he points out.

  “Well, yes, that’s true,” I admit. “But… if they trust one another, why can’t they work out all their problems?”

  “Trusting someone does not mean agreeing,” he says. “They are very different. Dolly is an elf.”

  “But you just said that’s the reason that Ruckus trusts her!” I say, getting irritated. He shoots me a grin, clearly amused by my tone.

  “Trusting and liking are not the same thing, and what a person thinks she needs is not always what she truly needs. But…” he pauses, coming over to take the vegetables I’ve chopped, “We are planning on bringing in a more powerful partner, soon, but Ruckus is impatient. Century has brought up a name to me…”

  I look at him, excited. “Who? You have someone in mind?”

  “If she is interested, yes. I was planning to ask her tonight. But she is somewhat busy at the moment, learning to fly.”

  “Jimmi?” I ask, almost bouncing. “She’d be PERFECT! Oh, but… if it takes too long, will Ruckus leave? If Ruckus leaves, then it’ll just be two against three again, unless you can find ANOTHER tank, right? Is there… is there something we could do to convince her to stick around?”

  ”It might help if I give Ruckus what she thinks she wants.”

  “What does she think she wants?” I ask.

  “She desires to work with me,” he says, scraping the vegetables into his dish. “She will quickly learn that it is very dirty work, but not in the way she believes.”

  “Aren’t you second-in-command?”

  “I am, but I am also the one that goes to check on various facilities in all of the Americas,” he says. I turn and stare at him with huge eyes. “It is much easier to prevent troubles before they begin. But it has become easier, in thanks to your principal.”

  “You two work together?” I ask.

  “We communicate, yes,” he says, modestly. “Now, let us put this in the oven!”

  I watch as he puts the cooking dish into the oven, absently eating one of the carrots I hadn’t chopped. “I would like to work with you!” I decide.

  “I would be happy to,” he says, going on to the next part of the meal. “Here, you can beat the eggs for the dessert,” he tells me, showing me how to do it. A second later egg splatters all over the room.

  “Um, sorry,” I say, wiping it off of my face. “Too fast?”

  “Too fast,” he agrees. But unlike Vinny, he merely holds out the eggs. “Try again, chica, you will get it!”

  “You’re okay with that?” I ask. “Every time I make a mess in Vinny’s kitchen, he gives me a rag and tells me to clean up while he does it.”

  “But Vinny is feeding more than just three people,” he says. “It is fine. But I can show you how to do it, first, if you desire?”

  “Yes, please!” I say, holding out the bowl. He slowly and deliberately cracks the eggs into the bowl, explaining how to start. I glance around at the egg that’s still dripping down the wall, extremely conscious of how that’s going to stick if we don’t clean it up.

  “Carla,” he says, just a tiny bit sharply. I look up, startled. “Focus, chica, you have one job to do. The mess will be cleaned easily.”

  “I—I’m sorry,” I say, looking down. I see his hand come out and he places it on my shoulder. I look up.

  “This is something I once had trouble with, as well,” he says with a smile. “It is very easy to try to do all the things at once, especially for us, right?”

  “The world is… really slow,” I admit. “And I CAN do a lot of things at once, and if I don’t do them, then there will be messes, and Vinny gets mad at me for the messes, and—”

  “There will always be messes, Carla,” he says with a laugh. “If you do not focus on the task in front of you, the mess will become even messier. You must learn to not clean up the messes of others if it causes you to make one of your own.”

  “While cooking?”

  “While doing anything,” he says. “You have come here to do a job, Carla.”

  “I—I came to try and help Ruckus and Dolly get along—”

  “No,” he says, “you have come to act as the third member of their group, and that is only temporary. This is your first time acting as an official team. Focus on that.”

  “But there’s MORE,” I say, almost moaning. “Skye’s going crazy over a kid that’s supposed to become a mad scientist, and she’s being mean to the kid, even though he’s still only twelve, and then there’s—”

  “Is that your mess to clean up?” he asks, raising a hand to stop my rant.

  I slowly shake my head. “Noooo… but—”

  “Do you not trust Century and me to do our jobs?” he asks.

  “Of course I trust you!” I say.

  “Then…?” he prompts, motioning to the bowl in my hands.

  “Then I should beat the eggs?” I offer, in a tiny voice.

  “Then you should beat the eggs,” he agrees. “One day, you will be able to clean up after others, while performing your duties perfectly, chica, I promise.”

  “And… I’ll be able to cook?” I ask, hopefully.

  “And you will be able to cook… with the help of several kitchen timers,” he agrees.

  CHAPTER NINE

  *Cape High South*

  “So this is the cafeteria,” Cheval says as she leads the young pre-teen through the campus. “We have a class that can teach you to cook, if you want to join it. They do the meals for lunch. Breakfast is continental and dinner is provided by black suits that come in the evening. If you have any allergies…?”

  “Do supers often have allergies?” Davis asks, looking at her blankly.

  “Well, no, not usually, but you are an interesting case, my dear,” she says, placing a hand on his shoulder. He fig
hts the urge to shake it off. Everyone has been extremely friendly, and it bothers him. Well, not everyone. Skystep had accused him of “smelling devious.” While it had worried him at the time, now it actually seems better than this extreme kindness. At least one person has taken him seriously, even if she is pretty much loony. “Davis? Are you coming?”

  “Ah, right, yeah,” he says, realizing that she’s already across the room while he’s still standing there. “So… um, yeah, I don’t have any allergies. You don’t need to worry about that.”

  “Well, we do have a healer to fix it, if you had,” she says. “Do you realize how rare it is to get a healer? There was only one back in my day, and she was working for Central. A two-bit villain like me would never get close to her. Of course, I didn’t ever NEED her, but still, the fact stands—”

  “Two-bit villain?” he asks, shocked.

  “They didn’t tell you?” she asks, fluffing her poofy afro fondly, “I was quite the villainous diva back in my day. Fighting heroes is a blast. I think you’ll find it’s far more entertaining than actually being one.”

  “But you always lose, if you’re a villain,” Davis says. “I hate losing. I’m definitely smarter than they are, so why should I degrade myself that way?”

  “Oh, yes,” she says, stopping and looking at him, “the terrible ‘running away with your tail between your legs.’ I’m certain that Maximum had to deal with that problem when he was younger, too.”

  “No offense, but I’m definitely smarter than Maximum,” Davis says. He shouldn’t be talking like this, and he knows it. He wants them to believe that his biggest desire is to be in their silly little game. But something about how open Cheval is being is almost compelling him to point out the stupidity.

  “Do you really think so?” she asks. “It would be interesting to see.”

  “You haven’t seen my IQ tests—”

  “But he will have, the moment he meets you,” she says. “He’s not only a telekinetic, he’s a telepath.”

  “That’s cheating,” Davis says after a second of thought.

  “Do you really think a hero has a chance when their villain can read their mind easier than he can read a newspaper?” she asks. “It really is impressive how he continues to lose in a way that seems somewhat realistic, over and over again. Debuts, especially, must be difficult. New heroes are practically helpless against an experienced mind-reader.”

  “But—”

  “Of course, since you’re going to be South, that won’t be a problem,” she says, interrupting him before he can come up with an argument. “We only have Rochester.”

  “Who?”

  “The janitor, sweetie, he’s the only psychic type we have; and he’s a psychometric instead of a telepath.”

  Davis almost trips over his feet as he hears that. “Psychometry… the ability to read the past of objects through touch?” he asks, unable to help himself.

  “Yes, but I’ve been led to believe that includes people in his case,” she says. “Cisco is one, as well, I think, but he’s much too young to be very reliable.”

  “And you made someone with that ability the janitor?” he asks.

  “He only has a high school education, honey, and that’s only recently. We couldn’t tell the norm system that we allowed a high school dropout to be a professor here. We’re supers, which means we’re shady enough as it is.”

  “I… see,” he says. “I’ve already got my G.E.D. though. I bet Maximum didn’t have that before he started going to Cape High.”

  “He did,” a man says from behind him. Davis turns, seeing the most disreputable janitor he’s ever seen in his life. “Cheval, the mirror room is clean,” the man goes on, touching the brim of his baseball hat with the Cape High logo on it. “It should be good ta go for your next class.”

  “Thank you, darling,” Cheval says. “I know just how much of a pain those streaks can be.”

  “Nah, it was no trouble. Mind introducin’ us?” the man asks, walking forward and stripping off his latex glove before holding the hand out to Davis. Davis stares at the hand and then looks up at the innocent smile on the man’s face.

  “Are you the janitor?” Davis asks.

  “Got a problem with blue collar workers?” the janitor asks.

  “I don’t shake hands with them,” Davis says, grabbing onto that excuse. Well, it’s sort of an excuse. He’s never shaken hands with a janitor before, so it’s true, right? It’s not like he’s ever even really dealt with a janitor before… he’s been homeschooled all his life until now.

  “I see,” the janitor says, raising a pierced eyebrow as he looks over at Cheval.

  “Rochester, this is the newest student, Davis. He’s a super genius. Davis, this is our prized janitor, Rochester Scythe. I expect you to treat him with the same respect you would give to your teachers,” she says firmly.

  “He’s a janitor,” Davis repeats.

  “Yes, he is.” She looks at him, a strange expression on her face, because she had just explained how important Rochester was just a few seconds ago.

  “That means he’s always touching germ covered things, right? Super or not, I really don’t wish to shake hands with germs. Truthfully, I think shaking hands is a ridiculous and rather dangerous tradition, and can spread far more germs than should be allowed, regardless of what job a person has.”

  “Oooh,” Rochester says, relaxing. “Now that makes sense. Ya can’t hold fastidiousness against a man, can ya? Super or not.”

  “Thank you,” Davis says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Scythe. My name is Davis Monk. I’ll be in your care from now until graduation.”

  “Likewise,” Rochester says with another touch to his hat brim.

  “Then, if you have things to do, I really should get back to my room,” Davis says to Cheval. “I want to make sure everything is put away properly.”

  “Of course, you know how to get to the dorms from here, right?” she asks.

  “I’m sure I can backtrack,” Davis says with a nod to her before leaving. The two adults stand there for a moment, watching him leave.

  “He didn’t want t’ touch my hand,” Rochester says, “an’ it wasn’t because of germs, either.”

  “No, no it wasn’t,” Cheval says. “I’ll make sure to keep an eye on that one.”

  “Same,” Rochester agrees before walking away, whistling as he pushes his bucket and mop.

  ***

  “He’s here!” a kid yells as Davis reaches his dorm room. He blinks as he sees a small group of kids cheer from inside.

  “Hello, Davis! Welcome to Cape High South,” a beautiful Hispanic girl says. She’s sitting on his chair in the middle of the room, one leg crossed over the other. The other kids are scattered through the room, watching him expectantly. “While some of us were hoping that the next kid would be a girl, we’re happy to have you!”

  He stares at them. “You don’t have to lie, I’m sure that you’ll grow to dislike me soon enough.”

  The room goes quiet for a moment before the oldest boy says, “He’s got a worse attitude than I do.”

  “That’s definitely true, Treble, but he’s got something you DON’T have, too,” another boy says.

  “What does that little twerp have that I don’t?” Treble asks.

  “Brains,” the rest of the room says. “Now that we’ve got a brain in the bunch we can officially challenge the Central Cape High! Or at least you can, I’ve got a dinner to get to, soon,” Jimmi says.

  “What in the world are you talking about?” Davis demands. “Even I know that the Liberty boys are in the Central Cape High. Just the two of them could wipe this group out—”

  “NOT in Technico World,” The albino boy interrupts him. “They’re still stuck on the whole ‘beating Technico’ part of the game. I mean, they haven’t even joined one of the unofficial leagues.”

  “Technico World?” Davis asks, confused. “I thought you were challenging Central Cape High.”

  �
��We are. I’m Jimmi, Voltdrain’s daughter,” Jimmi says, introducing herself before bringing out her phone. The entire group follows suit as she aims the phone at the wall in his room. To his surprise, the wall lights up and several small screens appear, with avatars of each of the kids portrayed on screen. “This is Technico World. We’ve got a pre-programmed phone for you. Jonas, did you get it from Angel, yet?”

  “I just grabbed one of the black ones,” Jonas says, holding a phone out to Davis. “But you should get rid of your old one after you’ve programmed all your personal numbers into this one. Zoe set it up so that your info would be inputted into the game if you press your hand to the screen when it prompts you to.”

  Davis looks at the phone as he takes it, and then at the wall sized video game. His mouth opens as he automatically starts to explain how video games can reduce the amount of gray material in the—

  “We NEED a brain for our team,” Jimmi says. “I’m not saying I’m stupid, but I’m one of our biggest hitters. I need to be out in the field, not acting as the field director.”

  “So… it’s an RPG sort of game?” Davis asks, looking at his phone again.

  “For supers,” a younger Hispanic girl says. “We are using our powers in a virtual world! It is so amazing! I have actually made friends!”

  “I… suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Davis says, slowly. He’s trying to hide the rush of excitement that’s running through him. He’s never, ever, played games with other people before. He’d always either been too busy with homework or sneaking out to study under Richard. Besides, he tells himself as he starts tapping on his new phone, he needs to fit in with this group, right? This is his hiding spot. But even with him trying, he realizes a second later, they’ll most likely hate him by morning.

  Jimmi stops, looking at the screen with a sigh. “I need to go, guys, so get Davis set up in our base, would you? I can’t WAIT to see us finally take down one of the leagues.”

  “Who should we aim for, first, Jimmi?” Whitney asks, with her eyes glued to the screen.

  “Who else? The Invisiboys,” Jimmi says as she puts away her phone. “If we can take down Freddy, Brandon, and Lance, we’ll get our name up on the board!”